Blindsided
by IrinaIanson
Summary: She never saw it coming, never anticipated what that man standing in front of her was going to do. Emma Swan, a thirty year old widow with a son to raise and a job to keep, has her whole life turned upside down when a drunk stumbles into her office, mumbling nonsense about fairytales. As he sobers up, his charm appears and along with it, a feeling they have met before.
1. Chapter 1

**_Present_**

The clock on the wall was ticking.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

It was ticking just to drive her _insane,_ she was sure of it.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Finally having had enough, Emma Swan stood up, brushed invisible fragments of dust off her fancy red dress and stepped away from the now empty table. If he didn't bother to show up, why should she keep waiting?

With a sigh, she stopped against the elevator closed door, waiting impatiently.

She couldn't quite grasp the idea that she had actually been stood up, or, to begin with, that she had agreed to this madness in the first place.

Sometimes Emma could swear Mary Margret sounded just like a mother. A very cool and understanding one, but a mother nonetheless.

An untamed lock of hair escaped Emma's blonde bun, ruining the hairstyle Mary Margret had worked so hard on. She knew her friend would kill her for what she was about to do, but she truly had no other choice.

With one swift movement, her long, slightly curled hair was hanging loosely on her shoulders once again. The impression the bun had been leaving on her scalp was finally, no longer Emma's concern.

The elevator still hadn't come.

In the somewhat smooth surface of the elevator doors, the young woman studied herself.

Her dress was too short, for starters, and while at home she had managed to convince herself that it looked hot, now she knew it just looks like a fancy hooker's dress.

Alright, maybe not that short but still too short for Emma's liking.

She had always been so much more comfortable in a pair of jeans.

By the time the elevator had finally arrived, Emma Swan was halfway through naming all the reasons that had been a bad idea.

Her heals clicked on the floor as she stepped forward, not wasting another second of her precious time.

Only when the doors closed, did she realize how much noise it had been out there. How had she been able to hear that freaking clock, anyway?

"Wait! So he didn't even show up?" Mary Margret asked, just as Neal gave a cry of disapproval. The new mom hurried to him, her arms already open and picked up the baby boy.

Emma couldn't believe how small he was.

And more than anything, she couldn't believe how big he was getting.

She had been through this, of course, knew well enough how things went, but it felt so different watching someone else.

"No, he didn't." She responded, her fingers playing with Neal absentmindedly.

Neal.

There were times when this young Neal was the only Neal Emma was thinking about, and times like this, when the baby boy was just a painful reminder.

Neal.

"I'm sorry, Emma." Mary Margret replied, sitting down on an armchair, still holding baby Neal.

"Don't be. Better I know now than later." Of course the blonde felt crappy about it, but who wouldn't?

The conversation was cut short by shy footsteps coming from the hallway behind Emma, and she didn't have to turn around to know it was her own baby boy.

"Mom, you're back!"

"Yeah, kid."

He was almost as tall as she and she was wearing heels.

It seemed like only yesterday that he was as small as an arm's length and they were a complete, happy family. The familiar gush of pain strung Emma's heart for a second, but the blonde tried to ignore it as she hugged her boy. He didn't have to know.

"Why are you still up?" She complained instead, momentarily forgetting how old he was.

He didn't fail to remind her.

"I'm twelve, mom. I don't need a bedtime." He stated, whining like a seven year old.

"What about a bedtime story?" Emma answered with a smirk.

When he was about nine, he had received a storybook from Mary Margret. At that time, he was convinced all the tales were real and they were all story characters 'trapped' in this world. It eventually wore off, though Emma knew he still liked to read the stories.

"You know I don't need them anymore." He grumbled, as he headed back to his own room.

He's smart, his mother reminded herself. So smart he must have realized something had gone wrong with the date and didn't question her about it.

"You're not going to grow so big, are you, Neal?" Mary Margret asked the baby, her fingers seeming immense next to his little ones.

"I wouldn't bet on that."

"Yes, well, Henry still needs you. We'll talk about how happy you'll be when you're not the only girl in his life."

Emma sighed, rolling her eyes. Of course she knew that time was coming, approaching inevitably fast, but she also knew she'd miss the bedtime stories dearly.

Her Henry, the one she held as a baby in her arms and realized she will never let go of, was going to stop needing her soon enough.

Yes, even the thought hurt.

"Don't be so cocky. You'll see how it feels soon enough."

"I have thirteen more years." Mary Margret replied, a hint of laughter in her voice.

She'd been euphoric ever since Neal was born and it was starting to drive Emma crazy. She was glad for her friend and her husband, glad for their happiness but getting sick of it, nonetheless.

Especially, since everyone's world seemed to fall perfectly into pieces. Everyone's but hers.

Of course, she would never mention it because she knew it would hurt both Mary Margret and David.

Which reminded her.

"Didn't David say he'll be here in half an hour?" Emma asked, while heading into the kitchen. She needed a drink.

"Yes." Mary Margret answered, absentmindedly playing with her short, brunette hair. Why she had decided to cut it so short was beyond Emma but she just came back like that one day.

It did look good on her, though, Emma thought, imagining her own hair looking like that.

She could never pull it off, she thought, shivering, making a single drop of rum spill beside her glass.

"Want something?" She yelled to her friend.

"Water." Came the answer.

The glass was never filled as a knock on the door echoed in the whole apartment. Emma went to open it, already knowing the person on the other side.

Just as she'd expected, a tall, blond man stood before her, smiling warmly. She copied the smile.

"Hey David." She greeted, stepping out of the way for him to enter.

It was raining heavily and he was soaking wet and yet, he was still smiling.

There was no need for an invitation as he took his jacket and shoes off and headed into the living room. Emma was well aware both her guests knew her home as if it were their own.

As soon as Mary Margret saw her husband, she started laughing hysterically.

"What happened to you?" She asked, in between fits.

Emma was trying hard to contain her own laughter at the scene.

David would never, ever wear a hat, or take an umbrella with him, no matter the weather. So, his hair was always soaking wet when it was raining.

But that was not the funny part.

That would be his jeans, half brown, half black.

Everyone who knew David, knew his jeans were always blue. Well, obviously, almost always.

"A truck." He answered, trying to shake off his wife's laughing and went to kiss both her and his baby boy.

Emma could only smile at the happy family, remembering all too well times when Mary Margret was alone and smiling at her, as she was holding Henry in her arms, her Neal right beside her.

At night, Emma found herself dreaming of Neal, a happy dream, more like a memory than anything else, from the time they were young and happy and Emma was pregnant with what was to be the best son.

When she woke up, the grief hit her full force, just like every other morning and left her without her will for a while. Hot, silent tears reach the corner of her two green eyes, before falling lightly on her pale cheeks, continuing their route. And every time she tried to stop them from flowing, she just made it worse.

She was just lucky it was Saturday.

Henry didn't even wake up until noon and, by the time the boy's steps echoed in the hallway, Emma already had her first cup of coffee and was working on the second one.

"Morning, sleepy head." She greeted him, already preparing a mocha latte with cinnamon for him. Hers was already half empty.

"Morning, mom." He sleepily greeted back, heading straight towards the fridge.

He was so much like his father, Emma thought, before pushing away all the memories for the moment. It wasn't the right time to whine around like a little kid.

It never was.

After their short exchange of words, nothing else disturbed the mechanical peace that had set- a chorus of all electrical devices in the apartment singing together and by the time the table was all set, it had been at least half an hour without a single voice breaking through.

"Not a nice guy?" Henry finally asked, watching his mother carefully.

"I wouldn't even know." Emma sighed, trying to mask some of her disappointment.

Sure, she knew she would never love again like she once had. She wasn't expecting the epic romance with a happy ending.

But it would have been nice for the guy to at least fucking show up, instead of standing her up.

After all, it had been over two years and, as much as she hated to admitted, long, lonely nights weren't Emma Swan's favorites.

**_Nine years ago_**

"I swear when I get to you, I will wipe that smirk off your face!" Emma threatened the man standing before her, her smile giving away the true feelings hiding beneath.

"Please," He teased her, that stupid smirk getting larger. "You love that smirk."

It might have been true, but Emma was not just about to admit that.

"Perhaps there are more things I believe those lips could do rather than just stand there and flash a stupid smile." She teased right back, stepping a little closer.

As she did her nightgown tightened around her body, hugging her curves perfectly. And she didn't need a mirror to know how her golden blond hair looked in the pale light of the moonlight. She smiled, seductively, just as she heard him gulp, his Adam's apple moving beneath the skin.

He took a step towards her as well, hurrying to close the space between them.

"And what would those be?" He asked her when they were close enough to each other that she could feel his breath on her, hot in the chilly night. His voice was rough, lustful.

At first, Emma couldn't help but look at the subject of the conversation, those perfect, crazily red lips that she wanted to kiss so badly, before looking back into his eyes, the sea blue she loved so damn much.

It took him a second longer to look back into her eyes, his own gaze having fixed on her lips before.

They locked eyes for a second, a contact as intense as any physical one before she answered his question.

"I'm afraid I can not speak my mind as some of my thoughts are not princess-like." She played, knowing fully well she was testing his patience.

And he wasn't known for being patient.

"Bloody hell, Swan." And his lips crashed onto hers, his right hand tangling in her long hair, bringing her into him.

The curved side of his hook caught her by the waist, pulling her closer to him, as close as they could be right now. She felt sharp edges from all the different buttons press into her skin lightly, more like a reminder than a threat.

A reminder that they still weren't close enough.

Her hands travelled from his arms, tracing his muscles, up his shoulders and down his chest, playing with the hem of his shirt while his one good hand was onto the cord keeping the two sides of her nightgown together, uniting it as fast as he could.

His teeth had reached the string and they were pulling at it, allowing Emma to feel his hot breath on her breasts.

However, as cold air reached her previously covered skin, she was brutally awaken to reality.

"Killian, we're in the hallway." She had barely managed to breath out the words, because he was already working his way down her neck, tracing passionate kisses along her collar bone.

He frowned, breaking away from her for a moment, letting her shiver in the newfound coldness of the palace.

Her whole body grieved for his heat.

But their momentarily separation didn't last too long because Killian was already lifting his beautiful swan up, as sudden as he had let go, and she didn't hesitate before tangling her legs around his hips, one hand locking on his shoulder, the other in his pitch black hair.

They stumbled into her room in a messy blur.

The next morning, Emma awoke to a knock on her door and before quite grasping the situation, tried to get out of her bed.

A familiar hand caught her by the waist immediately, and the blonde was forced to turn around.

As soon as she saw the person laying there lazily, no that it was really a surprise, a genuine smile couldn't help but plant on her face. His eyes were only half open, not quite focusing yet and for that briefest second, Emma wished she didn't ever have to leave this bed.

Another knock echoed in her huge room, this one a lot more forceful, a lot less patient.

"Coming!" She yelled, pulling away the covers and searching the room for a robe.

As she did, the chills of early morning painted her skin with goosebumps.

The person knocking impatiently wouldn't be crazily happy about this situation, Emma came to realize, as she was getting nearer the door and the voice was getting louder.

"Young lady!"

Two things passed her mind along with the remark from the hallway: firstly, it was almost midday. Secondly, she had a man in her bedroom.

"Killian." She whispered, but the man was already dragging himself out of the huge bed and into her even bigger closet.

She sighed, before hurrying to open the damn door, a stupid grin lying unnoticed on her face.

Her father noticed it.

"You're smiling." He stated, as a matter of fact. Morning greetings were no longer necessarily.

"You awoke me from a rather pleasant dream." She answered, not completely lying. Formality wasn't necessary but it was fun nonetheless.

"Get dressed, sweetie. Everyone is waiting for you."

Emma could have slapped herself for forgetting such a crucial thing. Her birthday was always important, let alone the one when she came of age.

The rest of the conversation was cut off, dad letting his baby girl get ready.

As the door closed behind Emma, she found herself face to face with a naked pirate.

"Might want to tell him about this one day, love." He said, his blue eyes shining with wisdom, the kind Emma wished she had in her eyes as well.

She was twenty one. He was over 200 years old.

It was obvious why she was not rushing to tell her parents, the king and queen, about them.

_**Present**_

"This is crazy!" Emma exclaimed, obviously distressed with the situation. The was an idiotic, stupid, drunk man standing in front of her, grinning like a crazy person.

He said nothing about her remark, though his blue eyes spoke for themselves.

"I took the last drunk guy. Your turn now." Her partner, Michael said, not bothering to lift his face from the papers he was looking at.

She missed Graham terribly, though only the sound of his name seemed to bring back horrible memories.

After all, it's how she'd learned never to date a workmate.

"Fine." She growled lowly. Michael might had fancied her, but his manners were about as good as a dead dog's. She actually could bet this drunken man had more manners than him.

"Alright smart face. Get in there." She said simply, motioning the uninvited guest to the cell.

He listed to her, stupidly happy about everything.

**Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter and that of course, you'll read the rest of the story. **

**Also remember, I love feedback so I would really appreciate if you took the time to put your opinion into words. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

** II**

"So you are from a land with magic?"

Emma Swan was getting really annoyed with this idiot next to her. But of course she had to manage the whole pile of files before she could go home.

She had to let the man out of his cell because apparently, his only fault was that he had a drink too much at the bar. He didn't have a license, he didn't drive and he didn't even start the fight, only took a blow.

She still wanted to keep him at the station, just to scare him a little.

"Yes, and so are you."

Damn, that stupid mumbling nonsense.

"Great."

He fell asleep on the chair not long after that, leaving the blonde with his hunting words to ponder on as the pile of paperwork on her desk became smaller and smaller.

**_Nine years ago_**

"This cannot be happening!" A very distressed Emma yelled, her fist colliding powerfully with the round table. She hadn't been twenty-one for twenty-one hours and a crises was already on the way . And the crises consisted in a warning note that informed the palace's inhabitants about a future curse.

"As much as I hate to say this, we all know not to take this warning lightly." Her father said, standing up as well. Her mother was looking up at him with both hope and love.

Snow White and Prince Charming, everyone, Emma thought, while trying not to roll her eyes at her parents. They were halfway into a war and somehow they still managed to make eyes at each other.

Emma's mind flicked back to the matter on hand.

They were no strangers to curses and the blonde could fairly well remember the one that pulled her away from her family for almost thirteen years.

She has grown an orphan half her life but as the other half flashed through her mind, she was glad she did. The safety behind castle walls would have never made her this strong.

"Is there any way to stop this?" Snow asked, mainly looking at Regina.

Regina, better known as the infamous Evil Queen, the one who broke the royal family apart in the first place. It had been her curse that did that, after all.

"Don't look at me. For the first time, I'm actually as clueless as all of you." Regina answered, her back straight and unflinching. Always gracious.

Suddenly, there was an arrow that shoot straight through the window, almost through Emma's head as well, and fixed itself in the opposite wall.

Snow gasped, the air seemingly taken from her body and Granny gave a scream.

"Heaven!" The old woman exclaimed, dropping the blanket she was knitting for a second.

Robin Hood was the one who got up and examined the arrow, in such a manner you could almost believe the weapon was a fragile little baby.

"This is a weak one. It couldn't have done much damage even if it tried." He finally said, before returning to the round table with a note in his hand. He passed it over to Charming, his face not showing any sign of anxiousness. Charming's face however paled the instant he read the note.

It was terrible, to see all the color draining away in an instant.

"Another warning?" Regina asked, just as Snow stretched her neck over her husband's shoulder. She was suddenly paler than usual as she nodded.

Neither of them, however, seemed able to read the warning out loud.

So annoyed as hell and kind of scared, Emma grabbed the note from her father's shaking hand, expecting the worst.

I'll take everything away from you.

She reread the words aloud, but her voice got lost among the thoughts rushing through her mind.

A hand suddenly took her own, caressing the skin lightly, gently, lovingly. At first, Emma flinched but a quick turn to her right assured her. As his thumb moved rhythmically in the palm of her hand, Killian's eyes were fixed on her own and for a second, Emma Swan believed nothing else mattered in the world.

**_Present_**

He could be quite charming when he was not drunk, she had to admit. But that was all she was going to give him.

He was sober now, or at least his headache he was continuously complaining about said so. He still acted like he was drunk though, just less babbling about fairytales.

The strangest part was, he said he didn't remember anything. Actually, he insisted she was the one going crazy.

Which was crazy.

"Ok." She finally said, along with an exasperated breath, when she grew tired of his constant flirting. He was handcuffed and she was a police officer, for Heaven's sake. "You're free to go." A key from her desk and he was indeed free.

This man however, didn't move.

"You still won't consider my proposal?" He asked.

Emma rolled her eyes, already tired out of her mind. Then, she remembered a few nights before to the man who didn't even bother to show up and for some stupid reason she was sure this one would.

"No." She said, flatly.

Then gave a wry smile.

"Alright then, I should be going." He replied as he got up, in mocking laziness, as if his legs weren't strong enough to hold him.

Before the blonde could even breath again, however, he stopped, turned around and smirked before opening his damn mouth again.

"I'm Killian Jones, by the way."

She knew that, of course she knew that, it was written right next to his handcuffs, on her desk. Of course she knew.

But he didn't know her and she planned to keep it like that, to have the upper hand. She took a deep breath to calm her anger and bit her tongue.

"Emma Swan." She looked at him with a masked hardness, almost daring him to say something else.

He didn't.

Instead, he turned around and simply walked out the door, like there was nothing left to do.

Until that moment, Emma hadn't noticed he was dressed in black leather from head to toe. His hair also happened to be as black as she had never seen before.

Nine years earlier

"Swan!"

This was crazy, too crazy to even fathom.

"What?" She snapped at the man trying to reach her. She hadn't meant to be that harsh.

"Just wanted to make sure you were alright." He said, genuine concern present in his blue eyes.

Alright? Emma felt like laughing in his face. How was anything alright? How could it be after they had just received a death threat, after the innocent citizens were once again put in danger's way.

"I'm... fine." It was the only thing the blonde could manage to say.

"You'll figure it out, Swan." He reassured her, in his usual voice. His usual voice was so rasped.

She wanted to argue with him, wanted to tell him she wasn't some kind of hero but she seemed drained of any power to debate on the matter. Instead, she let herself be just a little vulnerable and leaned into him, enjoying the comfort of his arms strong around her.

He didn't push her.

Somehow, he knew exactly when to hold her and when not to, how to be calm when she was almost over the edge. For that, and many other reasons, she knew she had fallen deeply for him.

**_Present_**

By the time Emma Swan reached her apartment, it was already dark. And in the darkness she fixed herself a drink and sat on the couch, staring at the blank TV screen.

She had no idea why she was feeling so exhausted To be honest, it had really been one of the easiest days in a long time. Of course, except for that stupid drunk.

Her heartbeat raced with rage and her head started pounding just at the thought of him. In her head, she could almost feel the anger running through her vines. The wine in the glass also seemed to be getting warmer by the second. There was no reason to see that idiot again, never in her whole life yet her gut seemed to think otherwise. And Emma knew better than to ignore her gut.

At least he is an honest man, Emma thought, going back through their earlier conversations. He even seemed to be believing every piece of absurd he was saying, which also made him nuts.

It wasn't her job to take care of crazy people.

Some kind of computer sounds could be heard from Henry's room, something which brought Emma back to actual problems.

That night, Emma Swan didn't dream about Neal, she didn't feel the piercing hurt she did so many times before. Instead, she dreamt she was dancing, in a flaming red dress, at no other place but a royal ball.

The brightness was blinding. And the room incredibly gigantic.

The first few steps Emma took were unsure, shaky and indelicate. It felt like all she could do was follow her partner's sure steps and let him swing her around like she was doll. As the song progressed, though, she started learning the steps which were quite easy to follow, actually. She raised her eyes to meet those of her partner's but all she saw was a blue not much unlike the sea.

Then, she woke up.

For a second, there was confusion as she could still almost smell the antiqueness of that impressive gala, could almost feel that man's hands tight around her waist and she was still dancing. As the light of day slowly crept in through the closed curtains, the blonde found herself wishing even for the slightest second she could go back to that place.

_Damn drunk_, she though, as she remembered his illogical stories. It was his fault she now felt more depressed then after any of the nightmares.

The magic of it all still lingered on Emma but she pushed any memory back in the furthest corner of her mind, away from her daily worries.

"Morning, Mom."

Henry as always was the one who brought her wondering mind back into their apartment. A few years ago her mind would never wondered. It wouldn't have even flinched because she simply couldn't afford it.

She sighed, forcing her mind to cooperate.

So she made the coffee and added the cinnamon and kissed her son before heading out the door to another boring day at the precinct.

_Just like any other day_, she tried to reassure her lingering feeling of uneasiness._ Just like any other day. _

"You wanna bet?" She challenged.

Any slight fragment of calmness she had owned before that was surely gone.

The man in front of her smirked, showing his white teeth. If Emma didn't know any better, she could've sworn Killan Jones had been a model in his young years.

He undoubtedly had the arrogance for it.

"I'd bet anything, love."

She wished she could wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

She had a bad day, with a bad start and obviously with a bad end. Not to mention some idiotic kid tried to get away with stealing her purse. As if.

So she had every right to be mad.

"You wanna be smart? Fine. Just be smart some other place."

She was on her last nerve and she sure as hell wouldn't let him get the best of her. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be her choice to make.

"You know you like it." His cockiness was too much to bear.

Suddenly, Emma exploded, and along with her, a glass window from a nearby shop.

Shards of glass came crashing down on the two, and on many other New Yorkers as well. The pieces collided with the blonde's skin painfully as she tried to dodge them from her face. Both the deep and superficial cuts were already stinging her skin and she knew they'd be hard to hide from Henry's view. Next to her, Killian stood, half of his face covered in fresh blood.

She never anticipated it. She never knew what that man in front of her could do to her perfectly peaceful life.

**Hope you liked this chapter! **

**I also hope I cleared some things out. While the last chapter was quite tangled, I actually planned to do that. I'm a strange human being, I know. **

**Thanks for the reviews, follows and favorites! 3 **


	3. Chapter 3

Present

She didn't really know why, but Emma Swan felt like shouting to that idiot in front of her. Every single time he was around, something bad happened. Like the glass window that had exploded out of no where.

His arm had slipped above her, trying to shelter the blonde from some of the falling shards. As if. Was she honestly supposed to believe he cared?

The police, and of course, the ambulance had reached the scene in merely fifteen minutes, given their close position. Those fifteen minutes did nothing to Emma's anger.

"What the hell?" She yelled at the stupid, stupid man.

"What?" He asked right back, confusion crossing his face.

"You're an idiot." She muttered, trying to turn around. He caught her arm and pulled her tight back making her almost stumble into him, as she failed to keep her balance.

His strong arms gave her an anchor.

There was something about him, something Emma couldn't quite explain but that pulled her right back into him.

Killian Jones, she thought to herself, her mind imprinting his name in her memory.

By the time she reached home, it was almost night and Emma was so exhausted, she could have slept for a whole day.

She had to stay at the scene for a freaking declaration, since half the people had walked away uninterested and the other half kept rumbling on about nothing even remotely similar to what had happened. And of course, there was also the shopkeeper who had to be called and asked about the shop, the window and anything else of no importance at all.

As she opened the door that led to her apartment, an enchanting scent of home-made cookies enveloped her. She breathed the smell in, grateful that Regina, one of Emma's friends, had taken the time to teach her son how to cook.

"Hey, mom." Henry greeted her, more than obviously content with his cooking. The kid was stupidly good at it.

"How did you know it was me? You didn't lock the door." Emma answered. 'Corse she was only joking. Well, half joking anyway.

"I just knew." Henry shrugged, just as Emma reached the kitchen.

"How was school?"

"Fine. How was work?"

"Dreadful."

Henry laughed at his mother, as the blonde woman sat down on the couch and stretched her tired legs.

"What happened to your face?"

"Don't worry kid, just some accident on my way home." She answered, truthfully. Her Beetle was at the garage and Emma Swan hated every moment her car spent there.

"I've heard this before."

It wasn't really uncommon for Emma to come home with injuries planted on her face but they were usually minor things.

The rest of the late evening passed by without Emma noticing and soon enough, it was past midnight.

Seven years before

"Alright. So what do we do?" Snow White asked when the council was formed again. Around her stood everyone important to the royal family and Emma couldn't help but think they sure as hell were one weird family.

After all, talking civilized with seven dwarfs, The Evil Queen, Robin Hood, Captain Hook, a werewolf also known as Red Riding Hood and her grandmother wasn't something you saw everyday.

Unless, of course, you were Emma and your parents just happened to be the infamous Snow White and Prince Charming.

Emma silently rolled her eyes at that mare thought.

"Postpone the coronation, obviously." Answered Emma's father, referring to the gala organized for a few days later.

"What?" Red jumped at the suggestion. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to organize such a huge event?" Red had organized it and, as much as Emma wanted to laugh at her sudden outburst, she knew it was only fair to keep going.

"She's right. There were a lot of people working for this event. We can't just throw it away."

"Someone's eager to become queen." Regina, The Evil Queen, said in her usually sarcasm.

"Trust me, I'm not. But if so many people have worked this hard, we have to keep going."

"They'll attack you!" To Emma's surprise, it wasn't her mother who yelled in her in concern. It was the pirate sitting next to her. The whole room fell silent, surprised.

Damn.

"I can take care of myself." Emma stated.

"I know you can, love." Killian said, just as her father stood up, obviously annoyed. As swift as that, Killian's hand was no longer on Emma's tight.

"I think we're beyond that, but I still believe it's a bad idea." Charming said, his cloak giving him a few very useful extra inches.

"If they come, we can finally know who's doing this." Emma stated, her words being followed by another silence.

"You're daughter's right. Want to figure put who this person is, let her have her party."

"Regina!" Snow yelled.

"It's not my party!" Emma backed up at the same time.

A smirk played across Regina's face, which easily floated back into a smile.

"Who agrees with me, hands up."

"Don't call-" Charming started, but hands were already flying in the air.

Five of the Dwarfs, except for Happy and Dopey,Red, Regina, Robin, The Blue Fairy and Nova all had their arms raised. Which left seven people with their hands down.

Including Emma's parents and her boyfriend and Geppetto with his son, August.

"Come on, you two." Regina said, when the answer was clear.

Counting Emma's vote, they were 11 to 7. You didn't honestly have to be a genius to figure out Regina really didn't need any more supporters.

"It's our daughter's life in the game." Snow protested.

"Your Majesty, if I may interrupt." The Blue Fairy started. "I think Emma has proven more than capable in more than just one situation. I think we ought to trust her powers one more time."

Charming seemed perplexed at this sudden explanation. He looked right, towards his fair haired little girl and then right to his wife. He could see in her eyes she knew it was the right thing to do. It didn't make it any less worries-worth.

"Fine." He finally agreed.

Present

Next few days passed out in a mixed blur. It was close to Thanksgiving now and since neither Emma, nor Mary Margret had any family left, beside Henry, David and baby Neal. Emma hoped that year would be no difference.

Except, of course, that Regina might join them.

Emma also hopped that would happen. After all, during the previous year, Regina's father had died, leaving a very distressed young woman behind. The blonde believed that if it weren't for Robin, Regina might have fallen to pieces.

"Who's coming to diner, mom?" Henry asked excitedly.

They never really talked about that, people just showed up.

"Not sure." The mother asked, while walking around the kitchen trying to figure what was missing.

"The sauce." Henry answered her unspoken question from in front of the TV.

Of course, the sauce.

Suddenly, there was an impatient ring at her door.

Emma checked the clock before heading to see who it was. It was barely five.

"Good evening, Swan."

It was no one else but that... that stupid idiot.

What. the. fuck?

"What are you doing here?" She spat the words like they were venom in her mouth. She wanted to get him out of there as soon as she could.

"I heard a neighbor is hoisting a Thanksgiving party every year, so here I am."

You have got to be kidding me.

Emma was too bothered mentally cursing every living being to notice Henry staring.

"Good evening." Her boy said politely, opening the door further.

"Well, hello. I didn't quite expect another man in the house so early."

The blonde was about to say something when she noticed with the corner of her eye, Henry smiling approvingly. At that moment, her mouth almost fell to the ground.

So the drunken idiot was good with kids, huh?

In the end, Emma let him in, given that he had both a casserole and a worm smile. It also happened to be Thanksgiving and for whatever reason he had turned up at his door, she wasn't going to kick him out.

As a few hours had passed, Emma Swan's living room was so full she found herself forced to move the couch so more space could be added. She couldn't remember a time when there had been this many people in her home. Both Mary Margret and Regina had turned up with their families (Robin, Regina's boyfriend, had a kid from the first marriage) and also her neighbors Ruby and Victor Whale.

Everything was going perfectly peaceful, the turkey was delicious, there was sauce and the side dishes were just as tasty, when the doorbell rang again. With an unusual pit in her stomach, Emma got up.

"Oh, Emma!" Ruby suddenly exclaimed, sopping the host midway. "I forgot to tell you that I invited a Belle over. Don't know if you know but she just had an awful fight with her husband. I didn't want her to spend Thanksgiving alone."

Emma nodded, taking in the information. She didn't want Belle alone on a holiday like this. So she opened the door and welcomed the newcomer in. It all went downhill from there.

As it turned out, dear old Killian had an affair with Belle's husband's first wife. And when the poor girl's husband, Mr. Gold turned up, there was almost a fight that had to be broken.

Killian apparently blamed Gold for Milah, the woman in cause, dying. He also mentioned that they were in love, something Emma quickly connected with the name tattooed on Killian's forearm.

It was a disaster, all in all, and after Gold finally had the sense to get out of the damn apartment, Killian started drinking his sorrow away.

By that time, Roland, Robin's son was already in bed, and Henry was half asleep as well.

But as it turned out, whenever Mr. Killian Jones is drunk, he starts talking about fairytales. And as much as Emma hated it, that completely sparkled Henry's interest.

"Wait fairytales?" The boy asked and you could basically see his brain starting working once again. In the next second, the old storybook was on the table, moving the rest of the pumpkin pie away.

"So you're saying that we are all fairytale characters away from our world, right?"

Emma was just about to say something, anything really, when the man in question answered.

"Aye, mate."

"Mom, you've gotta look at this." Her son indicated her, leaving Emma Swan with truly no other option.

**I know this chapter is rather short and I am truthfully sorry for that. However, there seems to be something called school that keeps getting in the way of my happy ending (writing). **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this little bit of Once Upon a Time because dark times await until 1st March. **

**Also, don't forget if there's anything you want to say, a small button at the end says REVIEW :-)**


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